Intimacies(22)

The men and women in the public gallery began to cheer, their voices loud enough to permeate the glass barrier. A woman pumped her fist in the air and clapped her hands, soon that entire section of gallery was following suit. I could see the journalists’ attention pivot toward the former president’s supporters, the scene would make for a good story. The guards positioned in the aisles of the gallery seemed powerless to stop or even contain the pandemonium. Down below, the former president was smiling, as he raised a hand to his supporters.

Quiet. I must ask for quiet.

The presiding judge shook her head.

Please control your supporters.

The former president’s gaze remained fixed on the public gallery. For the first time since entering the courtroom, his face was wide-open, almost vulnerable—there was no hint of triumph, or subterfuge, or strategy in it. He was clearly emotional in the face of his enduring popularity. I must insist that you control your supporters, or they will be barred from the gallery. Again, I am insisting. Slowly, reluctantly, he raised both hands and motioned for his supporters to be seated. They quieted immediately, dropping obediently into their seats, their eyes on the former president. He nodded, almost to himself.

The judge peered at him through her spectacles, her expression stern. May I remind you that there are certain standards of decorum that are expected of visitors to the Court. Should they fail to adhere to those standards, they will immediately be expelled from the Court and denied any further access to these premises. The former president stared at her unblinkingly. After a moment, she continued, now addressing the witness. As for you, sir. I must ask that you confine yourself to responding to questions from the prosecution. We are already running behind schedule. The witness nodded, and as the prosecution began their questioning, the energy seemed to drain from the courtroom.

For the next ninety minutes the prosecution questioned the witness over matters that were at once meandering and technical in the extreme, during which time both the prosecution and the witness seemed to grow frustrated and weary. The judges interrupted at various points, largely to urge the witness and the prosecution alike to be more succinct in their words and lines of questioning, evidently they were serious about being behind schedule. In the second half of the session I began to interpret. I was more than usually nervous, not only because this was a trial of consequence and an error in interpretation could have considerable effect, but because I was afraid that Kees might somehow recognize my voice, unlikely as that might be—we had, I reminded myself, met only once and spoken barely at all.

Still, when I leaned forward and spoke into the microphone, my voice gave an audible wobble, so that several of the members of the Court looked up in surprise. I felt Amina tense beside me. I found my composure soon enough, to everyone’s relief, or at least Amina’s, who reached out and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Kees did not respond to the sound of my voice, not even the tremor at the start. Nevertheless I was relieved when the session came to an end and the presiding judge rose to her feet.

Almost immediately, the room crawled with movement. The attention, which until that moment had been focused on the witness and the prosecutor, now atomized, scattering across the courtroom. Even before the three judges had exited, people were bending to gather their papers and leaning their heads together to converse. The former president remained at the edge of the room with a security guard at his side, he stood as if he were waiting for something, for someone to come and speak to him perhaps. I looked for Kees, to my surprise he and his colleagues were rapidly making their way toward the exit.

I turned back to the former president. His face, as he watched his counsel disappear through the doors, was thoroughly perplexed. His gaze moved to the public gallery, which was also emptying. His expression tightened. The guard leaned toward him and he nodded. His shoulders slumped and he suddenly appeared much older, I realized it must have taken him great effort to appear before the Court with his posture so erect, his bearing still presidential, to marshal what charisma remained, because contrary to popular belief, charisma was not inherent but had to be constantly reinforced. The former president’s performance—for that was what it had been—had left him depleted and now he shuffled toward the exit, head bowed.

Amina looked at me. Well done, she said. She smiled warmly at me. I’m going to the cafeteria to get a cup of tea. As she rose to her feet she placed her hands at the small of her back and grimaced. I asked if she was okay, then said that I would accompany her, I was also in need of a coffee. That was relatively easy, she continued as we made our way downstairs, even with that display in the gallery. There’s always something. The lobby was full of school groups and visitors and as we made our way across, I said to Amina that I had once met the new defense counsel. She turned to look at me, puzzled. Where? Here? As we joined the line at the cafeteria, I said, No. At a party, by chance. Ah, she said. So it’s not as if you are in the same social circle. Would that be a problem? I asked. She paused. No, I don’t think so. But be careful. They say he is very good at his job. We had reached the front of the line, and she said, Let me get this. What would you like?





9.


Several days later, I was called into a meeting with the defense. It was a Friday, one of the days when the Court was not in session. I was in the office with Amina when Bettina’s assistant rushed over, she wore an expression of consternation, and I asked if something had happened. Nothing serious, she said, don’t worry. It’s only that the defense requires an interpreter, and you have been specifically requested. I was startled. Why? I asked. Why me? She shook her head, she didn’t know, but Bettina had told her to accommodate the request. When? I asked. Now, she said, you need to go immediately.